


By the Shores of Avalon

by gallifrey_gal



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, slighty angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 12:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11967507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifrey_gal/pseuds/gallifrey_gal
Summary: For a thousand years, Merlin has waited by the shores of Avalon, with time as his only companion. He has seen kingdoms fall and the people he loved die. But still he waits, for the one he loved most of all to rise again.





	By the Shores of Avalon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cyarra97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyarra97/gifts).



> Heyyy, so I'm mostly posting this story because a friend really liked it, but I'm not that sure about it? Anyways, just for fun, this is a quick oneshot I wrote, based off a Tumblr post. (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/AZUveZzDhz0VxJY6FE7pSiYBqXeYbPJ8UyrlRnlpt0Cf4paTj2pK3p8/)

Time has its own pace. It bends and breaks for no one but itself. It ticks on and on, but no one can ever predict its path. Everyone gets swept up in the waves of time, but while some are swallowed by it, others find a way to swim. Time takes its own course.

Merlin was old friends with time. Together, they had guarded the shores of Avalon for a thousand years. Together, they had watched people fade away, legacies crumble to dust, and legends be forgotten. No one can control time, no mortal or sorcerer. But to understand it is an astounding thing in itself. Merlin knew time quite well. Time was the only witness to the story Merlin had lived.

Merlin was the only one left from the bygone age. He had watched each of friends die in turn, some in peace, some at battle, and he had seen the kingdom change. He had seen all the Arthur had dreamed of come to pass, and he had seen it all be destroyed by the currents of time. 

At first time was his enemy, something to fought against with all his heart. After all, it was time that stole away his life, piece by piece. It was time that turned him from a young man with hope in his heart to an old man who only dreamed of death. But time could not be to blame. Time does not understand mortals, does not understand the hearts of men. Time only knows to push on, as it always has. 

Long after Camelot fell, Merlin stayed by the shores of Avalon. He tried to keep pace with the changing world, but eventually he found that it rushed by him too fast. He was known as the village hermit, the strange old man who shunned all company. He had his own company, with time.

After everyone else was gone, Kilgharrah still remained. Yet Merlin found no kinship with him, not in the way he thought he would. Many days the warlock would watch the dragon circling the mountain tops. It the day that the dragon didn’t that Merlin found him resting by the shores of the lake that had carried so many of his friends away. 

They didn’t have very much to say to one another, for they already knew what lay in their hearts. Merlin knew that Kilgharrah only wished for a friend as he passed from this world to the next. They spent the afternoon together, occasionally bringing up a tale that only they knew. Merlin was able to bring a semblance of happiness to the dragon, and when the golden glow went out of his eyes, Merlin knew he had died peacefully. 

And then Merlin was truly the only one left. Only he and time remembered the stories and the legends from so long ago. Merlin was the only thing to remain of Albion. 

He liked to sit by the shores of the lake and watch the tides rise and fall. Sometimes, he let himself dream, let himself think of the past. It was only then that he could bear the memories that often overwhelmed him. As time dragged on, Merlin found himself fading away, just as so many others before him. He couldn’t die of old age, he knew that, but he no longer felt that he was living. And he started to wonder, for the first time, if Arthur would ever come at all.

The years continued on in their steady course, until the day came that Merlin walked out onto the beach, a look of desperation in his eyes. His pockets were weighted down by rocks, and he had abandoned his walking stick in the house. He could wait for Arthur no longer.  
And as he took his first steps into the waiting lake, he thought he glimpsed a moment on the shores of the far away isle. When he looked up again, a face he had started to forget stared back at him. For all those years Merlin had clung to the memory of Arthur, but even he could not win the futile fight against time. He hadn’t remembered Arthur’s eyes being so bright and blue, nor had he remembered the look of remorse in them. He couldn’t quite remember what Arthur’s laugh had sounded like, but he saw his smile now.

“Why have you come?” Merlin croaked. “Albion is dead and gone.”

For a second Arthur didn’t speak. 

“I know,” he said finally. “But Albion was never just the kingdoms or the land, Merlin. Albion was the people, and you are the only one to remain. I have come again in the hour of your greatest need.”

“Why did you not come before?” Merlin demanded. “Why have you come now, when I was ready to give up hope?”

“Because you need me most right now,” Arthur said simply. “And I have come to bring you home.”

“I have no home,” Merlin said, turning away. “The dust of Camelot has been scattered to the wind. The people that made it home are long dead.”

“You know where your home is,” Arthur said quietly. “Your home is with me.”

“I have not seen you for a thousand years,” Merlin said sadly. “I fear I no longer know you who are. And I cannot be sure that you remember me.”

“I remember what a terrible servant you were,” Arthur chuckled. “And I remember the names you would call me. I remember all the times you stayed with me, and I remember all the times you saved my life. I remember you as the bravest man I have ever known, magic or no magic. Merlin, the currents of time could never steal the memory of you away from me.”

Merlin looked at Arthur for a long moment, not daring to believe he was really the person that Merlin remembered. But when he searched for opposition in his mind, he could find none. Yet there was one thing about Merlin that Arthur hadn't remembered.

“I remember that I loved you,” Merlin muttered. “I have learned much since I saw you last, Arthur. I have seen so many people die and I have forgotten things that I thought I would remember always. But I remember that.”

Arthur stared at Merlin for a long moment, understanding dawning in his eyes. Merlin returned his gaze with a sad smile, already anticipating what he would say in return. Arthur hadn’t loved Merlin the same way Merlin had loved Arthur. Arthur had had Gwen, Merlin had no one.

“I never knew that,” Arthur replied, flustered. “But I guess you didn’t know some things about me either.”

Before Merlin realized what he was doing, Arthur’s lips had already met his own. As they kissed, Merlin could feel the years falling away, until he was a young boy again, in love with his king. At first it felt shameful and Merlin wanted to pull away. He had been taught it was wrong, and his own heart had been forbidden to him. But now, the blond haired arrogant prat that Merlin had fallen in love with was kissing him back. Merlin couldn’t pull away.

When they finally broke apart, Arthur held out his hand to Merlin. 

“I will take you home,” he said.

Without looking back to the shores that he had waited at for so long, Merlin placed his hand in Arthur’s, for once, not fearful of what time might steal away from him.


End file.
